Chapter 3: The Ghost in the Spotlight

But I swore, right then and there, that I’d get it all back.

Jessica walked up to the stage, arm in arm with Tyler, looking every bit the perfect couple. They basked in the spotlight, soaking up the applause. I stood in the shadows, invisible to everyone but myself.

People all around were offering their blessings, saying the two of them were a match made in heaven—a perfect pair. Their laughter echoed through the hall, everyone fawning over them. No one noticed the man who’d built the empire they now enjoyed.

No one mentioned me—the husband who’d spent seven years in prison for her.

It was like I’d never existed. I was just a ghost, haunting the edges of my own story.

My phone rang. The ringtone cut through the noise, sharp and urgent. I stepped outside to answer, grateful for the excuse to leave.

“Zach, I’ve got the helicopter ready to pick you up. When this is over, come with me.”

Mr. Johnson’s voice was steady, reassuring. For the first time in years, I felt like someone was actually on my side. I breathed easier.

“Alright.”

My voice was calm, steady. I was ready to walk away from it all.

It was time for me to leave.

I looked around one last time, memorizing every detail. The laughter, the music, the people who’d forgotten me. I was done living in their shadows.

Maddie looked stunning today in her blue dress. She walked over to me with a glass of sparkling cider in hand. She smiled, but her eyes were distant. I wondered if she even remembered the brother who used to tuck her in at night.

“Bro, I’m telling you, with Jessica and Tyler here today, just don’t get mad. After all, you’ve been to prison. If you go up there, you’ll just embarrass Jessica, and Henry can’t have a criminal for a dad.”

Her words stung, but I forced a smile. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to let go.

“Just stick to serving.”

She pressed the tray into my hands, her tone dismissive. I swallowed my pride and nodded.

“Oh, and I have to go find Brother Tyler—he said he’d introduce me to some industry big shots today.”

She flitted away, already chasing the next opportunity. I watched her go, feeling more alone than ever.

Watching Maddie walk away without a second thought, I finally understood—this little sister I’d raised on my own never really saw me as her brother. She’d follow whoever gave her money. The realization was a cold slap. Family, it turned out, was just another transaction.

“Zach, does it hurt? Are you miserable?”

Tyler’s voice came from behind me.

He leaned in, voice low, like he was sharing a secret. I could smell his cologne—the same one I’d bought him for his birthday years ago. The memory made my skin crawl.

“You did seven years for your wife’s peace of mind, worked every job you could to support your sister—and in the end, neither your love nor your family wants you.”

He grinned, enjoying every second of my pain. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to hit him. My whole body shook.

“Even the Zach Corporation you were so proud of is now the Tyler Corporation.”

He let the words hang in the air, savoring them. I bit my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. My jaw ached.

“Oh, and did you know your wife has a little red mole on her hip? It’s sexy as hell—I love kissing her there.”

That was it. The last straw. I saw red, and before I knew it, my fist was flying.

Hearing Tyler’s words, I finally lost it and swung my fist at him. The punch landed with a satisfying crack. Tyler stumbled back, clutching his jaw.

For a split second, I felt alive again.

Then the chandelier above the stage came crashing down.

Time seemed to slow. The massive crystal chandelier wobbled, then snapped free, plummeting toward the stage. It was about to hit Tyler.

People screamed, scrambling for cover. Tyler froze, eyes wide with terror.

All I heard was Jessica’s startled cry. Her voice cut through the chaos, shrill and desperate. “Tyler!”

The next moment, I was shoved hard—right into the path of the falling chandelier.

It happened so fast I barely had time to react. Jessica’s hands hit my back, sending me stumbling forward.

Jessica, to protect her precious Tyler, had pushed me under the chandelier.

I hit the floor, glass and metal raining down around me. Pain exploded in my shoulder, but I barely felt it. All I could think about was the look in her eyes—cold, determined, willing to sacrifice me for him.

She didn’t even look at me. She rushed to Tyler, panic written all over her face.

She knelt beside him, fussing over every scratch. I lay on the floor, bleeding and forgotten.

“Are you alright, Tyler? Are you hurt?”

Her voice was full of concern, her hands trembling as she checked him for injuries. I watched from the ground, invisible once again.

“I’m fine. You should check on Zach—he got hit by the chandelier. He might be hurt.”

Tyler’s words were half-hearted, his eyes never leaving Jessica’s face. He didn’t care about me. None of them did.

Jessica replied carelessly:

“He’s tough—he’ll be fine.”

She waved a hand in my direction, barely glancing at me. I felt the last pieces of my heart shatter.

She didn’t even come over to look at me. She just called an ambulance for me. Her voice was calm, almost bored, as she dialed 911.

I watched her, numb, as the paramedics loaded me onto a stretcher.

I didn’t go to the hospital—I signed the refusal and walked out. Instead, I got on Mr. Johnson’s private jet.

I left the party behind, the sirens fading into the distance. Mr. Johnson met me at the airstrip, his handshake firm and steady. The jet’s leather seats felt like freedom itself.